


Inaccessible

by wintershieldmaiden



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealousy, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintershieldmaiden/pseuds/wintershieldmaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin has trouble getting to sleep at night, but no one would ever suspect the reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inaccessible

**Author's Note:**

> I originally published this on ff.net, where Onyx Faye was my unofficial Beta, and while I didn't do every single thing she suggested, the finished product owes a lot to her. Go ahead and tell me if you care to! ;) If not just for me, then also for my beta, she put time into this too, so her efforts should be honored.
> 
> For the non-verbivores in our midst, here is the official definition of the word inaccessible:
> 
> in·ac·ces·si·ble (adj)
> 
> 1.  
> unable to be reached.
> 
> synonyms: unreachable, out of reach, unapproachable  
> ________________________________________

Voices roused Thorin Oakenshield from his much-needed slumber. A string of select Khuzdul curses slipped past his lips, before he willfully rolled over with a wordless growl. His drowsy body rebelled against the notion of getting up, but this unpleasantly bare, stone floor defied all thoughts of sleep. Even so, Thorin thought sourly, this time he would just stay right here. It did not become the Heir of Durin to lose sleep, night after night, over this.

For once, Thorin thought he was victorious. The voices grew lower, and then stopped altogether. Maybe…just maybe…this time he might sleep.

Then they started up again. Thorin growled and burrowed his head into his cloak, pressing his head to the floor and his arm against the other side of his head to block out the sound, but it did little good. He could still hear them.

At last, he could endure no more. Groaning softly under his breath, Thorin rubbed his large, broad palms across his face to wake himself up. He groaned again as he tried and barely managed to force his stiff, tired body into an upright position. The groan came mostly from the way his joints creaked and popped, yet on a deeper level, Thorin felt it expressed his frustration over this ridiculous habit, and the damning certainty that he would never bring himself to put a stop to it.

Leaning against the side of his cell door gave Thorin an excellent view up and down the walkway, and a good look at two or three cells above his own. That view also gave Thorin a good look at the offensive conversationalists who had disturbed his slumber for the fourth night in a row.

Just as he thought; Tauriel sat outside of Kili's cell, talking sometimes, but just as often listening attentively to every word from the young dwarf prince. As always, Thorin thought, and his lips curved into a silent scowl.

The sight irked him, but he also knew it was his own fault. He shouldn't keep doing this.

For the last three days, Thorin had woken up to find himself watching Tauriel and Kili, unable to tear his eyes away until she left his nephew's company. Their interactions infuriated Thorin—not unexpected, considering his previous invective about elves. But the real secret, the thing which made Thorin's habit so outrageous were the feelings which accompanied those vigils. Thorin burned with barely controlled anger every time he saw Kili talking to Tauriel, every time Kili looked at Tauriel, every time he smiled at her, and especially when she smiled at him.

Then again, Thorin didn't particularly care who knew of that. Every one of the dwarves probably assumed as much. After all the insults he'd spewed att the elf king and all his people, any sensible dwarf would have been a fool not to. But what none of them could possibly have assumed, what no one would have dreamed, was the true reason for Thorin's anger towards the bond developing between the captain of Thranduil's guard and his younger nephew.

For Thorin was not angry because his nephew, one of the apples of his eye, had fallen for an elf. He felt this way because his nephew had set his eyes on this elf, on this very particular captain of the guard, and because she seemed to return his affections. Thorin hated seeing Tauriel and Kili together—but his feelings stemmed not from anti-elven hatred or indignation, but from jealousy.

The hard rock dug into the bone of Thorin's shoulder in a particularly uncomfortable way, and he shifted. He was a fool, and he knew it. But he couldn't stop his foolishness. And deep down, an increasingly large and persuasive part of him didn't want to stop, so he didn't. All he could do, all he ever did, was watch.

Tauriel chuckled at something Kili said. Envy twisted Thorin's stomach, but Tauriel's smile quickly uncoiled it. Her smile made her look so—warm and soft—just like the long tresses that flowed around her face. The distant torchlight warmed the glimmers of red and chestnut that was woven throughout her silky, long hair. If only Thorin could hold Tauriel's hair, he would know for sure how heavy it felt…

Suddenly, Tauriel's eyes met Thorin's.

Thorin froze, his heart hammering. His instincts screamed to duck out of sight, but he knew any sudden movement would draw Tauriel's attention. Hopefully, she might not notice him staring at her.

Tauriel's hazel-green eyes flickered with—what—amusement? Her rosy lips curved into a mischievous smile.

"Hiding, Thorin Oakenshield?" she asked. The way Tauriel's musical voice lingered over Thorin's name heated his veins. This unpredicted warmth hindered Thorin's hearing, so he almost missed Tauriel's next query. "Do dwarves usually lurk in the shadows and listen in silence?"

Clearly, stealth would serve no further purpose. She had found him out. And in any case, Tauriel had set her eyes on him. She was speaking to him—even smiling—in a way that warmed his heart.

_Pathetic, _Thorin thought, _I am a fool, a weak fool. _____

"I do not hide," he declared gruffly.

Tauriel arched a single elegant brow; the regally sarcastic, yet good-natured gesture made Thorin want to smile, and it took most of his will to keep him from smiling.  
"Your nephew was telling me about his life growing up in the Blue Mountains," she said. "Where did you spend your childhood?"

Thorin stiffened, but then he realized she hadn't mentioned Smaug. Well, what harm was there in amusing her with stories of his early years? At least it would give him something to do, besides losing sleep through envious spying, and perhaps it would make him slightly less foolish.

That night established a tradition for the next few days. Each night, when Tauriel came down, she would include Thorin in her conversation with Kili. With every night, Thorin found himself relaxing in Tauriel's presence. Sometimes, he caught her intently eager expression, which momentarily made him think that maybe, just maybe...his folly would find a reward.

But, inevitably, Tauriel's eyes returned to Kili. And Thorin would again feel the shadows fall, and the same knowledge would hammer itself into his brain—as if he needed reminding.

_Not yours. Never yours. ___


End file.
